I'm Stealing Your Flowers for a Pretty Girl
by DwaejiTokki
Summary: (AU.) When Lassiter catches Shawn stealing flowers from his garden, he demands to accompany Shawn to see whether this girl is pretty enough for them. Oneshot. Complete.


I'm Stealing Your Flowers for a Pretty Girl

 **Summary** : (AU.) When Lassiter catches Shawn stealing flowers from his garden, he demands to accompany Shawn to see whether this girl is pretty enough for them. Oneshot. Complete.

 **Rating** : K+

 **Disclaimer** : According to the fine print, I still don't own Psych or any of its affiliates.

"It's not what you think," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. Several bright carnations were gripped in his right hand, and despite the very shiny gun pointed at his chest Shawn Spencer did not relinquish his hold on them.

Carlton Lassiter, standing at the bottom of the steps with his hair still dripping from his early morning shower, only narrowed his piercing blue eyes. "What the hell are you doing in my yard?"

Shawn laughed nervously. "Well, funny story, there. See, I was on my way to see my girlfriend, but then I thought I should bring her some flowers. But there are no flower shops along the way, and when I was passing by here I saw your beautiful garden, and I thought that, well, you wouldn't miss just a few..."

He gestured lamely to the pink and yellow flowers.

"So you're stealing."

Shawn winced. "Stealing is such an ugly word."

"Drop the flowers - gently, damn it! Put your hands on your head, and get down on your knees," Lassiter commanded, stalking forward in his slip-on shoes with the gun still trained on the complying Shawn.

"Oh, come on," Shawn muttered. "Please, man! I haven't seen her in a long time. I really miss her."

"Save it for the judge, you bastard," Lassiter said.

"It's five flowers, dude!"

"And next it'll be five million dollars from the bank."

"What!" Shawn rolled his eyes as Lassiter patted him down for weapons. "I just wanted to treat my girlfriend to something nice."

"Something nice," Lassiter repeated, stuffing his weapon into its holster. "How do I know you're telling the truth? For all I know, you could be stealing my flowers as you case my place."

"Please, if I were going to case anyone's place it would be the house down the street. Have you seen their Halloween decorations?"

Lassiter scowled. "I don't celebrate Halloween."

"You're really missing out. Like my girlfriend is with those beautiful carnations. They're her favorite, you know."

The detective looked closely at the thief for a long moment, and apparently decided that Shawn was telling the truth - partially, at least. "All right," he said, motioning for Shawn to stand up. "Take the flowers to your girlfriend."

Shawn grinned, stooping to pick up the bright flowers. "Thanks, man! Listen, if you ever need -"

"Get in the car."

"Huh? Oh, no, I have a bike."

"Get in _my_ car. I'm driving."

Shawn's smile faltered. "To where?" he asked warily.

Lassiter grinned. "To your girlfriend's, of course. I have to decide whether she's pretty enough to warrant an excuse for your thievery. If she's not - then, well, we'll stop by the station on the way back."

Shawn furrowed his brow. "Haven't you ever heard of beauty is on the inside?"

"That's a load of crap," Lassiter said flippantly. "Get in the car."

With a defeated sigh, Shawn trudged over to Lassiter's red Crown Victoria. He got in the passenger seat and fumbled with the seat belt as Lassiter got into the driver's side, whistling cheerily.

Once they had gotten onto the road and were on their way to 44 S Antonio Rd, as per Shawn's direction, Lassiter glanced out at the thief out of the corner of his eye. He seemed pretty at ease, so it looked as though he were telling the truth.

Bummer. Lassiter had really wanted to arrest someone.

"So," he said in a last-ditch attempt to catch him in a lie, "tell me about your girlfriend."

Shawn's face lit up in a smile. "Her name is Juliet," he said. "I call her Jules. She's sweet and funny and kind and hardworking, and her hair's soft like a bunny's fur. Her eyes are bluer than the sky on a clear day, and her smile - it's brighter than the sun."

"Okay," Lassiter deadpanned, "that's enough now."

"Well, you asked," Shawn scoffed, resuming looking out at the passing scenery. The carnations lay in his lap.

"What's your name?"

"Shawn," he replied. "Shawn Spencer. And yours?"

"Head Detective Carlton Lassiter, SBPD."

"Can I call you Head for short?"

"No."

"Lassie?"

"No."

"Lassie...face?"

"No."

"Lassidolphidus."

"No."

"How about -"

"No. Have you ever been arrested, Spencer?"

"Yes. Once by my dad, and another time by Jules, but that was a misunderstanding." Shawn laughed as Lassiter frowned.

They pulled up to the address Shawn had given, and Lassiter chuckled wryly before hardening his face into an angry mask.

"What the hell are you trying to pull, Spencer?"

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently, raising his eyebrows as he unbuckled.

"This is the Goleta Cemetery."

"Yes."

Lassiter stared at him. "Your girlfriend lives here?"

"Well, I wouldn't say _lives_ ," Shawn replied, exiting the vehicle.

The detective quickly followed suit. "What'd you say her name was?"

"Juliet O'Hara."

Lassiter followed Shawn as they weaved through the cemetery, his unease growing as they neared the newer headstones. Finally, abruptly, Shawn stopped at one. Feeling uncomfortable, the detective shot a quick look down.

Juliet O'Hara

1979 - 2013

Till We Meet Again

Now he felt really bad. And that wasn't something that happened to him often.

Shawn knelt on the green grass in front of the inscribed marble, placing the carnations lovingly beside it. Then he fished into his back pocket and pulled out a faded leather wallet.

"This is a picture of her," he said, holding a small photograph up for Lassiter to take.

The detective took it gingerly. A beautiful young woman wearing a pastel green sleeveless shirt was laughing, blue eyes crinkling. Her wavy blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her round face as she peered at the camera from around a corner. Her white teeth sparkled behind her rosy lips.

"Is she pretty enough for the flowers, Lassie?"

Lassiter broke out of his thoughts, clearing his throat. "Yes," he replied, handing the photo back.

Shawn beamed.

"Although she hardly looks like the carnation type," Lassiter said. "Are you sure they're her favorite? Maybe you misheard."

"Psh," Shawn replied, turning back to the grave. "Don't listen to him, Jules. I know you. Besides, he judges people on their looks. Did you hear him say you're pretty enough for the flowers? What if you had been disfigured in a horrible accident? He wouldn't have let me keep these flowers."

Lassiter's temper flared. "Yeah? Well, listen, O'Hara. I don't know your policies on _stealing,_ but these flowers are from my garden, so technically they're from me."

"Dude!"

And then Lassiter realized he'd addressed a dead woman concerning her unable-to-move-on boyfriend. He rolled his eyes. "I'll be in my car."

"I won't be long!" Shawn promised.

Five hours later, Shawn returned to the car to find Lassiter dead asleep, still waiting.

END.

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading!


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